


The Fine Line Between Love and Death

by bunnyfacecucumber



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Deadpool - Freeform, I guess we'll see, M/M, Miles Morales Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sorry Not Sorry, Spider-Man - Freeform, Spideypool - Freeform, Typical Deadpool Violence, Work In Progress, potential major character death, rated for violence and language, this fic will not have a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyfacecucumber/pseuds/bunnyfacecucumber
Summary: Wade Wilson and Peter Parker are happy. Really, truly happy. However, each are keeping a masked secret from the other.Surely, that won't become a problem.Wade Wilson and Peter Parker are happy... until they're not.
Relationships: Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Kudos: 9





	The Fine Line Between Love and Death

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: language
> 
> Not beta'd
> 
> Asterisks followed by italicized text indicates Deadpool's thoughts.

In hindsight, Wade figured he should've been more careful. Sure, _he_ was immortal, but his boyfriend, Peter, was not. 

At present, Wade was staring down at his phone in disbelief. Fury and dread were warring inside him and he felt like his entire world was ending. Tears were quickly gathering in his eyes, blurring the text and attached picture glowing from his phone screen.

**Blocked Number**

_Are you sure you can't take the job?_

The picture was grainy, showing the view from a rooftop across from a very familiar apartment building. It was zoomed into one particular window, where a boy could be seen, standing in his kitchen.

Peter.

The threat was clear: take the job, kill the target, or we kill someone you care about. And there was only one person in the whole world Wade cared about. 

_*Record scratch. Freeze frame. You're probably_ _wondering_ _how I got here.*_

It all started when Wade had gotten a call from Weasel concerning a job….

~*~*~*~

TWO DAYS EARLIER 

"Sorry, baby boy, I gotta take this. Could be the boss." Wade extracted himself from Peter, who was wrapped around him like bark on a tree. Peter nodded absently, too engrossed in movie night (tonight it was _The Empire Strikes Back_ ) to really notice or care. Wade quickly got to his feet, pulling out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, and walked to the bedroom to answer the call.

After shutting the door and flipping the lock, just to be safe, he answered the call with a hiss.

"What is it, Weasel? You're interrupting movie night with the bae."

" _Oh, God. Please tell me that's all it was. I'm gonna be sick if you guys were doing anything else._ " Weasel's nasally voice filtered through the phone, disgust evident. 

"Why? I thought you were into that sorta thing, Weas. We all know you're a voyeur at heart!" Wade teased, and then laughed as he heard retching sounds come through the call.

" _Ok, you know what? Fuck you, man. I'm just calling 'cause some clown wants you for a job. God knows why._ "

"Who's the target?"

Silence followed Wade's question, causing annoyance to shift up his spine. "Weas, I'm not in the fuckin' mood to play games. Who's the damn target? I'm missing snuggle time for this!"

Weasel cleared his throat nervously before answering. " _I told them you wouldn't take it. But they insisted I ask you anyway._ "

"Target! Now!"

_"Spider-Man."_

There passed between them about 30 seconds of heavy silence. Then Wade burst into laughter, so loud he was sure Peter could hear it from the living room. The laughter continued for several minutes before Wade finally got himself under control.

"Ha! That's a good one. Like, top tier comedy, and that's saying something coming from me. But, really, who's the target?"

Weasel cleared his throat again. " _Spider-Man. They want you to kill Spider-Man._ "

"Seriously?? They want me to kill New York's sweetheart, the Amazing Webbed Wonder, winner of Best Ass of the Year 5 years running, practically my second boyfriend, _my_ Spideykins?? _That_ Spider-Man??" Wade's incredulity was raising the volume of his voice steadily, going from whisper yelling, to actual yelling, which Wade hadn't noticed until Weasel told him to stop screaming at him.

" _Jesus, Wade! Yes, that Spider-Man. The red and blue one. Not that other one who appeared last year: that black and red guy. They want the original. Dead._ " 

"And you told them no way in hell, right?"

" _Fuckin' hell, Wade!_ _Yes_ _, of course I did! I know you have that whole "hero-worship/obsession" thing goin' on with the guy. I knew you'd never take the gig._ " 

"Mmhmm, mmhmm. And they wouldn't take no for an answer, huh? You know how I feel about people who won't take no for an answer, Weasel." Even though Wade had returned to whispering, his voice had taken on that deadly quality it only got when he was unaliving a target. He could practically hear Weasel's shiver of fear through the phone. "Can you get me a number for these assholes? I want to tell them no myself, emphatically."

" _Uh, sure, yeah._ " Weasel rattled off a number, which Wade committed to memory. 

"Thanks, Weas."

~*~*~*~

The next day, Wade woke bright and early, making sure Peter got ready for work so he wouldn't be late (he ended up falling asleep on the couch, so Wade had insisted he stay the night). After showering and eating a hearty breakfast of 25 pancakes topped with 3 spray can bottles of whipped cream, _*remember kids, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!*_ , he pulled out his phone and dialed the number he'd memorized the night before.

The phone only rang once, before it clicked, and a voice answered, " _We've been waiting for your call._ " The voice in question, was heavily modulated, sounding almost auto-tuned, to mask the person's identity.

Wade couldn't help but laugh. "Have you been answering every call like that? That's hilarious. Congrats on having the whole 'cheesy comic book villain' thing down."

The voice on the other end was silent for a minute, leaving Wade wondering if they hung up.

"Hey, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Comic book villains are great! I, myself, am a comic book hero. Well, anti-hero, but really, what's the difference anyway? I unalive a few dozen people and suddenly it’s 'Hero's don't kill people!’ this and 'Stop breaking into my penthouse and drinking all my alcohol!’ that. Not that Iron Ass knows anything anyway. I bet he’s killed people before! He’s just too _honorable_ to admit it! Thinks he’s better than ev-"

" _Silence!_ " The voice suddenly screeched. " _Did you get our request or not?_ "

"Yeah, about that, I'm gonna have to give you a strong and unwavering no. Me and Spidey, we're like BFFs, ya dig? He's like my work boyfriend and I'm not about to kill what has to be the nicest ass-"

" _That's unfortunate,_ " the voice interrupted Wade's monologue again, which made him huff in annoyance. 

_*For the children who are still following along: Daddy Deadpool presents another Life Lesson (trademark pending). This one's titled: Interrupting is Rude so Don't Fucking Do It. Stay tuned next time for: Heteronormative - How to Break Free of Straight Thinking (a Guide to Having More Gay Thoughts)*_

" _-so much money, anything you desire would be yours._ " Wade was lost for a moment before realizing the voice had been droning on while he had been talking to the younger readers.

"Yeah, yeah, look, I'mma be straight with you, I didn't get most of that. But don't bother repeating 'cause I ain't buyin'. No means no, guys." The voice tried to speak up again but Wade continued, talking over them. "Do you want it in Spanish? Nó! French? Non! German? Nein! Or a personal favorite: Nah! That's Farsi for those of you playing at home-"

" _Mr. Wils-_ "

"AND another thing. Maybe nobody's told you, but I can't be bought, _especially_ where Spidey is concerned. Good day!" and, with that, Wade hung up.

Oh, how he wished he hadn't hung up.

PRESENT DAY 

Wade had had a lot of panic attacks in his time. Like, _a lot_ . No one could’ve survived Weapon X without suffering from crippling anxiety. But, then again, no one _did_ survive Weapon X, save him.

Still, Wade felt he had never had a panic attack quite like the one he was suffering from now. His first reaction to the clear threat to Peter’s life, was to call him and make sure he was alright. 

_"Sorry, the number you are trying to reach is currently disconnected or out of service. If you think you've reached this message in error, please check the number and dial again. Goodbye."_

The automated voice taunted Wade with each desperate dial of Pete's phone, eventually prompting him to pull out his desert eagle and unload a clip into his skull. After waking up from his impromptu nap, Wade came back to himself enough to call Weasel, hoping that the self-proclaimed tech genius would be able to trace the source of the text and corresponding picture. Weasel just sighed and told Wade to meet him at Sister Margaret’s.

~*~*~*~

“Look, you really fucked the pooch on this one, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve tried everything and there is no way I can trace this text. It's been rerouted through at least two dozen cell towers, spanning across all the major countries in Europe.” Weasel was bent over his keyboard, greasy hair falling into his face as he typed away. Wade’s phone was plugged into the computer, screen displaying the text message Wade had received over 5 hours ago now. His time was running out and he was losing his patience. _What if they already have Peter?_

Wade shook his head, viciously, trying to dislodge the thoughts that insisted Pete was already dead. Weasel glanced at the merc, concern evident on his face. “Look, man.” Weasel tried, “Maybe you just need to, I don’t know, do what they said? Just kill Spidey. I’m sure it wouldn't be that hard for you, and there will always be other super heroes for you to obsess over….”

Wade turned his attention to Weasel in a flash. He felt a boiling rage fill him, and before he knew it, he'd grabbed Weasel out of his chair, toppling it to the side. One of his hands was wrapped around his throat, pinning him to a dilapidated brick wall of the dingy bar. It was only the fear in Weasel's eyes, and the scrabbling of his hands on Wade's, that made him realize what he was doing. Abruptly, he released his grip, letting Weasel drop to the ground, grasping his throat and coughing. Turning on his heel, Wade hastily made his way to the exit.

Faintly, as the door to the bar swung shut, Wade heard Weasel’s scratchy voice, but nonetheless laden with sarcasm: “You're welcome!”

**Author's Note:**

> I am open to constructive criticism and welcome feedback. This fic is a work in progress and will be updated as I finish chapters. Chapter two is almost done and should be updated within the week. 
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me writing, so if you are enjoying this story, please let me know!


End file.
